At my first job, we had an informal rule: every person could take a vacation around the holiday they preferred, so that the entire outfit wouldn't shut down for every holiday, of which there are many in India. I would get an overpriced ticket to my hometown in Kerala, and for a week, act like I had always been there.
Then came my second job, where the end of the year meant crunch time, thanks to expiring client research budgets. We'd ignore our friends and families and race to churn out reports that were destined to be unread until mid-January, all to satisfy an accounting practice. As the years went by, I even had the unfortunate job of telling other people no, they can't take a few days off for the new year to go on a family trip.
This year, after a whirlwind of change, and constant work and business development as a freelancer, I was pleasantly surprised to hear my new company was shutting down for the holidays. For the past week or so, I've been meandering through Kerala, fulfilling a holiday wish list dominated by my 3-year-old, who asks for different kinds of 'tata', translation - outing.
Elephant tata - Achieved in Thekkady, although I wasn't too happy with how the elephants were treated there
Beach tata - Drove to Mararikulam Beach.I fell ill and it got worse, but it was worth it to see her jumping around in the surf and chasing crows thinking they'll play with her. I also have pleasant memories of floating (drunk) in a small rivulet joining the ocean there and helping fishermen haul a huge canoe to shore many years ago.
Cycling on my old route, and taking a sip of water by the side of the Meenachil river (from a bottle, not the river like my wife thought)
Meeting a friend for a drink in a surprisingly big city-esque pub in Kottayam, which furthers my belief that it is now a better place to live than Bangalore
There were a few unexpected additions. I stopped my car near a kadave one day, got down and walked around the paddy fields, seeing hundreds, and probably a thousand White Egrets (Kokke in Malayalam). I also stood and watched 3 boys trying to catch a Snakehead Fish (Varaal in Malayalam) for half an hour. I didn't manage to see if they finally caught it, but did see it jump out of the water in the beginning, which is what prompted the hunt.
Tired of waiting for the slippery Varaal, I sauntered over to the nearby pump house which was pushing water from the stream to the other side of the bund, and literally found a fish out of water, a big carp of some sort. I found a big stick and flipped it into the water. A friend who heard about this said the fish was probably trying to kill itself and that I was an unwanted rescuer. That would explain why it floated belly up for a few more seconds before zipping right down.
I am now recuperating from a particularly contagious virus—fortunately, not COVID-19—and mustering the energy to drive back to Bangalore. In spite of the long drive, I am looking forward to driving through the Western Ghats and tea estates of Thekkady, and stopping for a coffee and Bhaji at a roadside teashop where the shopkeepers stick a pipe into the side of the mountain to get freshwater. We stopped at a superb homestay for the night at Thekkady on the way here, and we'll probably stay there again. The hostess made us feel like we were visiting family, with the warmest hospitality and amazing breakfast.
I had long been searching for a place like that. I've always loved the Ghats and somehow find it fitting that the border is right there, a place that's still home-home and green and filled with Malayalam, but with weather closer to Bangalore. It's a good place to cross into the new year and go back to your 'karma bhoomi'.
If you're thinking, 'Is that it? where's the 2023 wrapped list?', sorry, but this is it. I tried to write about achievements unlocked and lessons learned in 2023. I even thought that fish out of water had a certain symbolism, happening as it did in the one place I do not feel like that.
But in the end, I don't want to, not right now.
There's a cacophony of birds outside, and a cat lounging on a roof, licking itself at leisure. Someone advised me that it's OK to just be a human being, and not a human doing all the time. It's hard advice to follow, but today, I think I can.
Happy 2024, whatever that means to you.